


Wondrous Wishes

by PandaSpanker



Series: Terrible Things [2]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alpha Jeon Jungkook, Alpha Kim Namjoon | RM, Alpha Min Yoongi | Suga, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe to a Alternate Universe, As you wish, Baby Boy Jeon Jungkook, Baby Boy Kim Taehyung | V, Beta Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Boys In Love, Epic Love, Gay Parents, Getting Back Together, Ghosts, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Made Myself Cry, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Titles, Lost Love, M/M, Miracles, Omega Kim Seokjin | Jin, Omega Kim Taehyung | V, Omega Park Jimin (BTS), Omega Verse, POV Park Jimin (BTS), Parents Kim Namjoon | RM & Kim Seokjin | Jin, Parents Min Yoongi | Suga & Park Jimin, Park Jimin (BTS)-centric, Seriously Let It Go, Sons, Why Can't I Leave This Series Alone, Why Did I Write This?, Wish Fulfillment, Wishes, revive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaSpanker/pseuds/PandaSpanker
Summary: A son's wish.A love he never thought he'd get back.Maybe happy endings do truly exist.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Series: Terrible Things [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761715
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, everyone! So first off I want to say, I'm so sorry that I can't seem to leave this story alone haha. In all honesty, I've really gone back and forth about writing this or not since the original ending was good and had closure. But---- I watched Hi, Bye Mama! recently and so that got me thinking about what would happen if our dear sweet Chim also got to come back in a similar manner. So I guess this is an alternate ending to Terrible Things!
> 
> I'm not sure how long this fic is going to be, but I hope you guys enjoy it!  
> (If you liked the original and don't want an alternate ending, I totally get it! Not judgement against anyone who chooses not the read the alternate!) 
> 
> Love you all!  
> xoxoxoxoxo

“Your dad’s not going to be happy if he finds you in here, Taehyungie.” I crouch down, watching as he crawls into his father’s closet. “You know how he gets with these things.” His little feet poke out again, his body wiggling until he’s back out, a black box in his arms. A bittersweet feeling squeezes my chest at the sight of it. In the beginning, I couldn’t help the heartbreak that shattered me every time I got a glimpse of the box. But, ever since Taehyung had found it, that feeling had eased. 

Because even though I had been by his side, watching and speaking to him, since he was a baby, this box was the only place where he could truly see me.

Watching him lift the lid, my heart gave a sad squeeze. When he had fallen earlier, sniffling as he tried to hide his tears, I wanted nothing more than to take him into my arms and comfort him. _My poor baby. It’s okay, Taehyungie. Dada’s here. There’s no need to cry anymore._ I’d even forgotten for a second and reached out.

But when my hand passed right through his little shoulder, I couldn’t help but sniffle with him.

“Yoo-yoongi.” Taehyung’s soft voice draws me from my sadness. Pride swells in my chest. He was only six, but he really read and spoke so well. I watch as he traces his little fingers over the back of a photo. “Ji-Ji-Jimin.” 

I crawl over closer, my eyes tearing up. “That’s right! That’s me! Say it again, Taehyungie!” 

“What are you doing in here?”

I scream just as loud as Taehyung does, both of us jumping at the sound of Yoongi’s voice. I watch as Taehyung grins, fibbing just a little to avoid getting into trouble. I turn slowly, my heart thumping at the sight of my mate. 

He’d grown his hair out lately, most likely too busy with work and raising Taehyung to remember to get it cut. It wasn’t anything new since I’d had to drag him to a stylist plenty of times when I was still alive. He was looking better lately. More-

More alive. 

Yoongi picks up Taehyung and the box, laying with them on the bed. I stand slowly, dusting off my knees. “You know, Yoongi, you really shouldn’t scare Taehyung like that anymore.” I move to the other side, settling down beside them. “What if he would’ve cried? You’re not good at dealing with his tears.” 

I’m so busy chastising him that I don't realize they’ve been talking this whole time. When I tune back in, Yoongi’s talking, his voice soft. “When I was 20, I would’ve given anything to fall in love. And that’s when I met him, he was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. He was the man of my dreams.” He looks down at our son, a smile gracing his lips. “He was your father, Taehyung.”

I freeze, realizing they’re talking about me. I glance at Yoongi, my heart pounding in my ears. “You’re telling him? About me?” I breathe the words so quietly that even if I was living, no one would have caught them. I watch as Taehyung gets excited, his little body bouncing as he cheers. I want to chuckle, but I know that he’s about to be let down. He wants to see me, to meet me, but he’ll never get to. 

Guilt settles in my stomach like a million led balls as Yoongi tells him that he can’t meet me, telling him that life does terrible things. 

I’d told him something similar in the past, trying to make him - and myself - feel better about our forced separation. I reach out, hovering my hand just above Yoongi’s cheek, wishing I could feel the softness under my fingertips. “I’m sorry,” I tell him for the millionth time, my eyes welling up. He just keeps telling Taehyung the story of our first meeting, oblivious to my apology.

Those first few months after my death had been hard on both of us. I’d returned to Yoongi’s side to see him shoving all our memories into a box, burying them. I stayed with him after that, sobbing with him. I was mourning the loss of him just as he was me. I apologized over and over, dropping to my knees. 

And I kept apologizing ever since. Every time that he had to lock himself in his room so he could get a few minutes to piece his fragile heart back together. Every time he had to force a smile onto his face for Taehyung, only to scream and cry into my pillow at night.

I cried with him when he first saw our faded mate mark.

I smiled with him when Taehyung said Dad for the first time. 

I cheered with him when our son took his first steps. 

I should move on. I know I should. It wasn’t good to stay here, forcing myself to suffer through these years of just watching and never being able to interact. But wasn’t it bad enough that the universe decided that I should get ripped away from my family? Why didn’t I deserve to stay here, in my imitation of happiness?

I wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t.

“And do you know what he said to me when he came over?” Yoongi’s voice reaches my ears, his cheeks moving under my hand. 

“What? What?”

“He told me that I was in love with him,” Yoongi chuckled. “And then said that he was in love with me too.”

I blushed, “Why would you tell him that?” I buried my face into Yoongi’s neck, careful not to phase through. “I can’t believe I said something so embarrassing.”

The bed jostles as Taehyung shoots up, demanding to know what happened next. A knock sounds, interrupting storytime as Namjoon sticks his head in. Taehyung leaps into his arms, chattering away excitedly. 

And then he brings me up again. “I know it’s last minute, but he’d come if we asked right?” He turns to Yoongi, hopeful. “He’d come, right Daddy?” 

“I wish I could, baby,” I whisper, my heart dropping at Taehyung’s tears when Namjoon tells him that I can’t come. 

Yoongi stands, wiping Taehyung’s tears away. “Your dada is busy, Taehyung. That’s why he can’t be here.”

“What could he be so busy with that he can’t come to my birthday?”

“I’m here,” I tell him, moving to his other side. “I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world, Taehyungie.”

Yoongi continues to soothe him, trying to get him to cheer up. It was times like this that I ached to be able to help him, to wipe Taehyung’s tears away. When Jungkook bursts through the door, his presence alone enough to calm Taehyung’s tears, I’m so thankful that I could ascend right on the spot. He pulls Taehyung from the room, leaving the adults alone. 

Yoongi sinks to the ground, Namjoon doing the same. I take up Yoongi’s other side, eavesdropping on their conversation.

“You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually,” Namjoon tells him.

“I know. But what do I tell him that won’t hurt?” 

“It’s always going to hurt,” I inject. “But he deserves to know, Yoongi.”

Namjoon talks over me, telling him to tell the truth.

“But he’s so young and what if-”

“What if what?” Namjoon urges him on.

“What if I’m not ready to talk about it?”

“Oh, Yoongi.” I rest my hand over his, wishing I could send him some comfort. “You’ll never be ready, my love. You’ve been hiding from your grief for so long that I’m sure you’d never face it unless you were forced to.”

When Namjoon finally gets up to help Jin, Yoongi stays on the floor. Of course, I stay with him. He stares up at the ceiling, oblivious to the fact that I sit right next to him. He speaks to the emptiness, “I wonder how you’re doing, Jimin.”

“I miss you every day,” I tell him, my voice thick. “I miss the way your eyes used to light up when you would see me. I miss the sound of my name on your lips.” A tear breaks free, tracking down my cheeks. Knowing no one will see it, I don’t bother to wipe it away. “I’m as okay with all of this as you are, my dear. How unfortunate that we’re both too good at hiding it.”

Soon after, Yoongi gets up to head downstairs. I stay in my spot, letting myself wallow for a while. When the sound of singing reaches my ears, I finally stand to go downstairs. When I finally reach the kitchen, it’s to find that Taehyung is just staring at the candles on his cake.

“What if I wish and it doesn’t come true?” He asks Yoongi, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the table. Yoongi soothes him as I move closer, and finally Taehyung nods. He sucks in a huge breath and blows out every candle at once, the crowd erupting in cheers. 

But Taehyung’s eyes are still closed, his little nose scrunched up in concentration. 

“Must be a pretty important wish for you to wish that hard,” I tell him. 

Taehyung dashes around the table and I move to follow him-

I stumble, my head whirling. _What was going on?_ A whooshing sound fills my ears, drowning out the sounds of the party around me. My breathing picks up, my anxiety skyrocketing. I hold my arm out to Yoongi. _I’m scared, Yoongi. Help me!_

Yoongi turns towards me, and for a second I think he heard me. Then he smiles at something behind me. My vision starts to fade as he walks through me.

“Help me!” I beg, but my words fall on deaf ears. “I don’t want to go! I want to stay! Please!”

Then darkness swallows me. I’m not sure where I am or how long I’ve been here, but I can catch snippets of sentences, the voices echoing like they're in some huge cavern. I hear Taehyung crying, fighting with Jungkook. I hear Yoongi telling our story, our friends teasing him intermittently. I want to move closer, to see them all. But I can’t see or feel anything. 

So instead, I just float in the darkness, listening as Yoongi gives Taehyung the letter I wrote him. 

Then the voices fade farther until I’m in silence. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I’m not sure how long I’ve been lost in the dark before a light shines ahead of me. I can hear Taehyung’s voice, clear as day, from it. 

“Do you want to know what I wished for today, Dad?”

I chased his voice, stumbling over my own feet. I felt heavy, my body taking longer than normal to listen to me.

Yoongi’s tired voice replies, “I thought you said you couldn’t tell me or it won’t come true?”

“I just feel like it’ll be okay to tell you,” Taehyung says back.

I’m closer now, I can see them through the light. They’re curled up in Taehyung’s bed, Taehyung’s blanket tucked in tightly around him.

“Then, tell me, what did you wish for today, TaeTae?”

Taehyung lays his head down, his lashes fluttering closed. When he speaks, his voice is sleepy. “I wished for my Dada. I wished for Jimin.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” 

Taehyung just hums in reply, his breaths evening out as he falls asleep. I sprint faster, forcing my cement-filled legs to move. Through the bubble of light, I see Yoongi kiss Taehyung’s forehead and climb out of the bed. 

“Yoongi!” I yell his name. He freezes, looking around him. My heart thumps in my chest, my breath choking me. “Yoongi!” I yell out again. He whips around, his head tilting. He laughs quietly, rubbing his forehead. 

_He heard me! He definitely heard me!_

I push my body harder and harder, forcing it into the blinding light.

The burn starts at my fingertips, moving farther and farther in until it swallows me whole. I cry out, my vision filled with nothing but white. 

Just when I think I can’t take anymore, my mind succumbs and I’m lost to the darkness again.


	2. Chapter 2

Gradually, awareness settles back into me. My limbs weigh me down, my fingers barely twitching when I tell them to move. After being nearly weightless for years, the sensation is odd. I try to open my eyes and see around me, but my eyelids refuse to budge, leaving me in darkness. A strange thumping sounds in my ears, drowning out everything else.

A wind caresses my skin, a cacophony of whispers following it:

__

_A Wish of Life or Death_  
Thirty Days for the Fate of Your Breath  
He Who Says Yes or No  
Chooses To Stay or Go 

A whooshing sound drowns out the voices, that pounding in my ears growing louder and louder. I want to cover my ears from the sound but my hands still won’t listen to my commands. A bright light builds beyond my eyelids, my skin heating beneath it.

The light, heat, and pounding get worse and worse until they’re all I can focus on.

Then, as suddenly as they started, they disappear. The pounding in my ears is replaced with a soft rhythmic sound. The light no longer a blinding white, but a softer, filtered out yellow. The heat that threatened to swallow me whole now recedes until it’s just a coolness against my skin.

Still unaccustomed to the weight of my body, it takes me a while to get my eyes to open. They sting at first and I have to open and close them a few times before they finally bring the room into focus. 

Constellations fill the space above me, little white dots scattered across a navy blue background. My fingers dig into the carpet below me, the soft fibers tickling my skin. My breath catches in my throat, the dots above me growing blurry as tears fill my eyes.

I could feel all of it: the carpet beneath me, the light as it filtered in through the curtains, my heart as it pounded in my chest.

How long had it been since I felt the sun on my skin?

What was happening to me?

A small squeak to my left gets my attention. I turn towards it-

Only to meet the brown eyes of my son. 

“Taehyungie?” I whisper, my voice hoarse from the tears. He lays on his side, his pink hair a disaster and pajamas a rumpled mess. He stared at me, his mouth wide open. The pounding in my chest got louder, my heart picking up its beat. “C-can you see me?” He nods, his cheeks sliding against his pillow. Little chuckles rumble through me, dislodging a few tears. “Really?” He nods again. A sob escapes me, my tears forcing their way down my cheeks. I didn’t want to cry in front of Taehyung, but I couldn’t help it. I turn back to the ceiling, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes as I sob. 

He can see me. I can’t believe it. I feel like I’m going crazy, my sobs and laughs blending together.

A warmth cuddles into my side, small hands wrapping around my hands and pulling them from my eyes. “It’s okay, Dada,” Taehyung whispers to me. I look down, just barely making out his outline through my tears. I let him set my hands on my stomach, his own coming up to gently brush my still-running tears from my cheeks. “Don’t cry. Shhhh. It’s okay.” 

His words only make me cry harder, but he doesn’t get upset. He just continues to wipe my tears, shushing me softly. When I finally get control of myself enough that my sobs turn into small hiccups and my tears have dried, I apologize. “I’m sorry, Taehyungie. I didn’t mean to cry so much.” 

He beams up at me, “It’s okay! Daddy told me you were a crybaby!”

“That man,” I groan. “Couldn’t he have said something nicer?” I turn on my side, careful not to jostle Taehyung too much. My hand moves to rest on his cheek before I can stop it, but Taehyung just grins up at me. I smile back, my eyes misting over again. “My sweet, sweet boy.” 

“I knew you would come back!”

“And how would you know that?” I try to smooth down his hair, but the pink locks refuse to stay put. 

“It’s a secret!” He zips his lips, throwing the “key” behind him.

“Ohhh, so you’re big enough to keep secrets from your Dada?” I pout, feigning sadness. “To think you were so sharing when you were just a tiny thing. You used to run to me and tell me even the smallest of things.”

“I did?” Staring up at me, Taehyung basically shines with his curiosity.

“All the time!” I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. I pull him closer, hugging him to me. “You didn’t speak very much then, but I always knew what you wanted to tell me. When Jungkook made you upset or if you were mad at your Daddy, you told me all about it.”

“I don’t remember any of that,” Taehyung pouts.

“Of course not. You were just a baby then.” 

“But then I would’ve remembered you.”

I smile sadly, “It’s better if you don’t, Taehyungie. Those days were sad for all of us. I’m glad you only have happy memories.”

“Dada?” Taehyung’s voice is quiet, hesitant.

“Hm?”

“When you di-” He gulps, his little hands fisting in my shirt. “When you left, did it hurt?”

“Oh, Taehyungie.” I hug him harder, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. I wrack my brain, trying to decide what to tell him. Back when I died, my body had been giving out. I wasn’t even able to leave my hospital bed. I can still remember the sound of my bones breaking from the weakest of touches, the rattling in my chest as the cancer started to infect my lungs. I can still clearly see Yoongi’s face at the exact moment he realized I was going to die, that all our hope was for nothing. I don’t want to scare my son, so I go with a softer version of the truth. “I was very sick,” I start. “My body fought for as long as it could, and sometimes it really, really hurt. But when I left-” I use his word, “-my body no longer hurt. The worst pain was when I realized I was going to be leaving you and your dad.”

“Did you miss me?” 

“Every second of every day,” I tell him. He burrows closer, pressing his head into my chest. I swallow, hoping what I’m about to tell him won’t scare him too much. “But do you want to know a secret?”

He pulls back enough to peek up at me. “What secret?”

“I never left you or your dad,” I admit. I feel his mouth drop open. “I’ve been by your side every single day, watching you grow up.”

He pushes back from me, my heart dropping. I must’ve scared- “Really?” There’s a smile on his face, his eyes sparkling as he stares up at me. “You’ve really been here the whole time?”

“Mhm.” I nod, smiling. “On your birthday last year, you cried because Jungkook blew out your candles before you could.” I laugh at Taehyung’s blushing cheeks. “Last week, you got praised by your teacher for a painting you did. Every night you tell your dad that you don’t need to sleep with Tata anymore, but when he leaves you get up and grab it. You just want him to think that you’re a big boy.”

“I am a big boy,” he huffs.

“You are, you are.” I chuckle. “But even big boys can sleep with toys.” I lean in closer, whispering a secret. “When you were a baby, your dad once fell asleep on the couch hugging one of your bears.”

“He did?” Taehyung whispers back.

“He’ll deny it ever happened, but I saw it. Scout’s honor,” I lift my fingers up in a promise.

A door closes farther down the hall. I shoot up as footsteps start to make their way towards Taehyung’s door. Taehyung sits up with me, his brows kissing. “What’s wrong, Dada?” 

“I can’t have anyone know I’m here,” I whisper back to him. I stand quickly, searching for a good hiding place. Deeming it the safest place, I move towards the closet. 

“Why not? Daddy would be soooooo happy to see you!”

I step in, crouching down to meet Taehyung’s worried eyes. “I just don’t want him to see him before I get everything figured out, okay?” He fidgets with his fingers, looking unsure. Petting his hair, I try to explain quickly. “I just don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if I’m not sure what’s going on. Can you keep this a secret between us, Taehyungie?”

Taehyung hesitates, looking torn, but eventually, he nods. A knock sounds on the door, Yoongi’s muffled voice coming through the wood. “TaeTae? Are you awake?”

Taehyung makes a shushing gesture before closing the doors. Light filters in through the slits in the door, giving me enough room to peek out and watch as he opens the door. “I’m up, Daddy!”

“If you were awake, why didn’t you come to wake me up? I would’ve made you breakfast, TaeTae.” I can only see Yoongi’s back as he steps into the room. My heart pulses when I see that he’s wearing the pink pajamas I got him. His hair is poking up in different directions, reminding me of Taehyung’s. At least I knew where he got that from.

“Sorry, Daddy. I was just playing a little bit.”

“It’s okay,” Yoongi ruffles Taehyung’s hair before grabbing his hand. “Let’s go brush your teeth and get you some breakfast, okay? We’ll wake up your pesky uncles, too.”

Taehyung glances quickly at the closet before plastering a smile on his face. “Okay!” He follows Yoongi out, closing the door behind him. I focus my hearing, listening for them to finish brushing Taehyung’s teeth and the tell-tale squeak of the stairs. 

When I’m sure they’re gone, I slip out of the closet. I can hear voices coming downstairs, my heart aching at being so close to my friends but being unable to see them. It’s not that I didn’t want to. Lord knows I would run down those stairs and throw myself into Yoongi’s arms without even a second of hesitation if I thought that was the right thing to do.

But I couldn’t do that. Not until I knew what was going on. I knew first-hand what my death had done to Yoongi. I wouldn’t put him through that again. If I could stick around, then I would show myself to him. 

But if, in the end, I was going to end up dying again, I’ll stay as far away from Yoongi as I could. Sure, I would watch him and Taehyung from a distance - just to make sure they were okay - but I would never show myself to him. 

First, I needed to get some answers. Catching a glimpse of myself in Taehyung’s mirror, I couldn’t help but chuckle. I was still in the pajamas I had been wearing on the day I died. Little polar bears dot my shirt and pants, making me look like a child. 

I did need to get some answers, but first I needed to get some clothes.

Sneaking into the hallway, I avoid every floorboard that I know creaks on the way to Yoongi and I’s room. I slip in quietly, resting against the door as I take the room in.

As a ghost, I had watched as Yoongi stripped our home of everything that reminded him of me. The photos I had hung, the sheets I had picked out for our bed. He eventually even packed up the pillow I had used when sleeping. But now, standing here in the flesh, all that pain came rushing back.

I had stood beside him the whole time, begging for him to not do it, to not destroy any memories of our lives together. I had watched as he shoved every piece of our lives together into box after box. The breakdowns he would have when he would find a piece he missed or when he walked into our bedroom and smelled my scent would forever be etched into my soul.

I understood why he had to do it. If the roles had been reversed, I probably would have done the same. And, just as I would’ve, I understood when he couldn’t throw out any of my things. Instead, he moved the boxes to the attic - which he always kept locked so I can’t get into it to get any of my clothes.

Luckily, Yoongi and I have always been able to share clothes. Going through his drawers and closet, I try to choose clothes I know he won’t notice are missing. I freeze when I pull my shirt off, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I step closer, my hand coming up to trace over my mate mark.

The once muted crescent was now ablaze in color, the pinks and purples back to their former hue. Tears prick my eyes at the sight of them. When I found that my mark was just as washed-out as Yoongi’s, I’d been distraught. Seeing it now, I was ecstatic, but dread settled low in my stomach.

When Yoongi saw his mark, what would he think? 

I was going to have to move quickly.

Sneaking back into Taehyung’s room, I scribble him a quick note - telling him not to worry and that I’ll see him soon. Knowing Yoongi will never pick it up, I slip the note under TaTa for safekeeping. 

Taehyung’s window slides up easily and I use the trellis on the side of the house to climb down. Hopefully, Yoongi would realize what easy access that provided to our son’s room and took it down or I knew, when they got older, that Jungkook would be creeping into Taehyung’s room any chance he got. 

Crouching low to avoid being seen out the window, I peek into the kitchen. Everyone I love in this world is seated around the table, still in their pajamas as they laugh and eat. Jungkook is feeding Taehyung a bite of pancakes, effectively smearing syrup all over my son’s chin. Jin is watching the boys warily as Namjoon pats his shoulder, no doubt telling him not to worry about the mess. Hoseok is chattering away at Yoongi, who I know for sure is barely giving coherent answers due to the fact that he just woke up.

My soul aches, begging me to join them. It would be so easy to slip back into my place in life. I could walk in there right now and pull a chair to Yoongi’s other side, I could unpack all my things and put them back in their spots.

And, hopefully, I would get that chance. But, for now, I turn my back on the scene and my family.

It was time to get some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait guys! I've been sucked into the mdzs fandom and now can't stop reading wangxian fanfics T_T 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! As always, let me know what you think! 
> 
> Love ya!  
> xoxoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look- it's been like six months since i last posted a chapter of this. you have my sincerest apologies. 2020 got me messed up my dudes. 
> 
> But I hope you still enjoy this chapter!

An hour. That’s how long I wandered the city before I realized what a huge mistake I’d made. Not only was it the middle of winter and I was woefully underdressed for the weather - I mean would it have killed me to grab an actual coat before slipping out? - but I’ve only just now realized that I have nowhere to go. Everyone I ever knew or loved believed that I was still dead. 

Which means I had two realistic options: try to get answers on my own or reach out to someone. 

I settle deeper into the corner of the booth I’m sitting in, my freezing fingers warming around the mug of hot chocolate. Thank the world that Yoongi tends to leave money in his clothes, a quirk that bothered me so much when I was still alive. 

Or, I guess technically, the first time I was alive. 

Feeling eyes on me, I glance up to catch the barista's gaze - which brings the count to four times in the past fifteen minutes. Considering my fingers and sweater were all frozen stiff from the snow outside when I walked in, she had a reason to think I’m a little crazy. I mean, I definitely would if I saw someone in my state. 

Which means I need to figure out what I’m going to do and get out of here - quickly.

I could try to get answers on my own, but where would I start? I had no idea where someone would go to ask about this. Were there people who dealt with the dead coming back to life? Was that even a thing that happened or am I just a one-time occurrence? 

Not to mention that I couldn’t just wander around. It was freezing outside and I wasn’t so eager to find my way to death for a second time.

If that was even possible. After all, I have no idea if I’m really truly alive or in some type of limbo. Or maybe this is some type of purgatory before I finally go to the afterlife. A punishment for hanging around my family for so long instead of moving on like a good little spirit. 

I was out of money, I had no connections, and I had absolutely nothing to go on. So, it looks like I’m going to have to risk giving someone I love a heart attack. 

And as much as I hate to admit it, I know there’s only one person I can go to. 

Downing what’s left of my hot chocolate, I take a glance at the calendar on the wall. It was a Monday which meant my target would be close by. I make my way through the cafe, ignoring the barista’s overly-curious stare as I push out the door, the cold air immediately stinging my cheeks.

This early, the streets are clear of anyone else crazy enough to trek out in the snow. I shove my hands in my pockets and take a deep breath, loving the smell of the snow in the air. I never thought I would miss the cold of winter, but after four years of feeling nothing, it was a blessing to feel the little flakes on my skin.

I walk briskly, my breath coming out in little clouds in front of me. Navigating the streets, I remember all the times I walked this same path. I’d taken it for granted then. The sights, the smells, the way Yoongi would sway our hands between us when we walked. My heart constricts in my chest, wishing he was here with me now. He would’ve never let me walk out of the house in nothing but a sweater. He would’ve chased me back in the house to bundle me up in at least six coats. Taehyung would giggle when we walked out of the house looking like rollie-pollies of fabric. He would squeal at the sight of snow, forcing Yoongi and me to chase him around in it. 

I turn the last corner, the studio that Yoongi and I shared looming in front of me. Creeping around to the side entrance, I hope the snow hasn’t displaced the spare key. I run my hand across the door jamb, the snow raining down on my head until I feel a small lump. Letting out a breath of relief, I open the door, shaking off the snow before heading inside. 

The familiarity of the studio settles into my stomach like an anchor, forcing me to freeze in the entryway. I’d spent so much of my time here, preparing for a future that I was so certain I’d have. If I looked over the floor, I swear I could still see the scuffs I’d left when I’d fallen that last time. If I ventured into the locker room in the back, I knew I would find my locker untouched. It was the one spot that Yoongi could never bring himself to cleanout. Dance had meant so much to me that he couldn’t bear to take that last memory away. 

So instead he avoided it as much as he could. As soon as he came he would make a beeline straight to his own studio, holding his breath the whole time to avoid catching any of my scent. I’d always walked beside him, chiding him for how silly it was. The idea that he would smell anything from this far away was ridiculous, but of course, he couldn’t hear me. 

It’s to that locker room that I make my way now, my feet carrying me almost entirely on instinct. I didn’t come here to dance, I really didn’t. But at just the thought, a small jitter starts in my limbs, excitement blooming in my stomach. I change clothes in a rush, thankful that I was back in a body that could actually fit my dance clothes.

I’m standing in the middle of the studio before I know it, a million me’s reflecting in the mirrors. Butterflies swirl in my stomach, my palms growing clammy. It’d been so long since I danced. The last time I had even tried, I’d ended up breaking my leg. And then what came after had made it impossible for me to even try. 

What if I couldn’t do it anymore? 

What if coming back to life hadn’t gotten rid of my sickness? 

Would I try just to find that my legs would once again snap under me?

No. I wouldn’t let the fear stop me. Exhaling slowly, I start through the steps, my movements unsure at first. Soon, I’m grinning, my exhilaration washing away any worries I’d had. Why had I ever been afraid to do something that I was so perfect for? Dance was just as much a part of me as I was of it. My muscles ache from the movement, but the bones hold steady.

Had I really forgotten how freeing it was to have a body that wouldn’t betray you? When was the last time that I could move around a room like this? 

The room grows blurry and soon tears mingle with the sweat on my cheeks. When I stop moving, my chest is heaving from my sobs as much as it is the dancing. I crumple to the floor, letting my emotions wash over me.

I’d cried in death. I’d sobbed, screamed, and begged. Still, no one heard me. I thought I had dealt with my death - and the sickness that caused it - but maybe that was because I had no choice. After I died, I spent little time looking back at my life. I did everything I could to stay in the present, following Taehyung and Yoongi as close as I could. Was it a way to distract myself? Did I ever really mourn the life that I had lost? 

But my cries sound back to me now, the anguish of a life cut short ringing in my ears. 

“Jimin.” 

I freeze mid-sob, turning to the voice. 

Hoseok stands in the doorway, the snow still melting on his black hair. His bag drops from his shoulder, making a wet smack as it lands on the floor beside him. My pulse thuds in my chest, as he does a double-take. As he rubs his eyes, a small head pokes out from behind his leg.

“Hi, Dada!” Taehyung waves, stepping around Hoseok’s leg. He rockets towards me, uncaring of the snow on the ground.

“Taehyungie, you’ll fall, don’t ru-” My breath leaves me in a huff as he crashes into me, his arms wrapping around my neck. Sighing, I rub small circles on the back of his coat. “Hi, Taehyungie.”

He pulls back, his smile dropping when he catches the still-drying tears on my cheeks. “You’re crying again, Dada,” he pouts. Using mitten-clad hands, he wipes the moisture away. “Daddy was right, you really are a crybaby.”

“I am not,” I laugh, grabbing his little hands. I swing them between us, causing him to giggle. “I was just crying because I missed you so much, Taehyungie.” The pompom on the top of his hat tickles my nose as I pull him into my lap, cuddling him as close to me as possible. I don’t even care that his coat is soaking my clothes with snow. “You’re out with Uncle Hoseok today, huh?”

“Taehyung,” Hoseok speaks up, getting both of our attention. His face is pale as he motions for Taehyung to come to him. Taehyung clutches me closer, shaking his head against my chest. Hoseok clenches his jaw, “Taehyung, now. Get away from him.”

“I want to stay with, Dada!” Taehyung cries, his voice pitching up. I press a kiss to his forehead, shushing him. Looking up, I wince when I catch Hoseok’s glare.

“Hoseo-”

“I don’t know who you are or what you thought you would gain from doing-” he gestures to me and Taehyung on the floor “-all this. But we both know you aren’t his father so let the boy go.” I clutch Taehyung closer, refusing to let my son go. “Taehyung!” Taehyung flinches at Hoseok’s yell. “Come here now!”

I shift so Taehyung is behind me, hiding him from Hoseok’s scathing gaze. I feel my instincts kick in, my need to protect my child overriding the relief I feel at seeing my friend. My voice is a growl when I speak next. “Hoseok, I’m only going to tell you this one time.” I stand slowly, making sure not to take a single step away from my son. “Don’t _ever_ speak to my son like that again.” I feel Taehyung cling onto my leg and I reach back, patting his head. “Taehyung, go into Daddy’s studio, please.”

“But Dada-”

“Please, Taehyung,” I ask softly. “I promise I will come to get you after I get this sorted out with your Uncle.” I glance away from Hoseok to see Taehyung reaching his small hand around, his pinky up and out.

“Promise?” 

I wrap his tiny pinky with my own larger one, “I promise, Tae. So please.” His footsteps take off behind me, echoing loudly in the tense silence. 

“Taehyung!” Hoseok’s yell has my hackles once again rising. 

I take a step forward. “I told you not to yell at my son, Hoseok!”

He settles that angry stare on me now, his brows furrowing as he looks me over. “He’s not your son,” he hisses at me, closing a bit of the distance between us. “I don’t know what you want to accomplish by fooling that child but you can’t deceive me.”

I bare my teeth at him. “Hoseok, I’m really trying to keep a low profile here but if you’re trying to take my son from me right now, then I can’t help but make a scene. _Do not_ take one more step, or we will have a problem.” I know, deep down, I was thankful that Hosoek would go to such lengths to try and protect Taehyung. But my Omega instincts don’t take kindly to anyone trying to take my son away from me.

“You’re not his father!” Hoseok’s roar causes a growl to rise in my chest. 

I close the distance between us, gripping the collar of his shirt in my fist. I lean in close, angling up so I can stare up into his eyes. “I’ve had my son ripped from me once before Hoseok. I won’t let it happen again, least of all by you.”

He returns the gesture, holding me by the sleeve of my shirt. “You’re absolutely batshi-” His eyes drop to my collarbone, his face paling even further. The anger drops from his features as he glances back and forth from my face to my collarbone. Worry swamps me as tears track their way down his cheeks. But then I follow his flickering eyes-

My collarbone. Where my mate mark, now back to all its former glory, stood stark against my skin.

Hoseok stares at me for a while before, with a quaking voice, he spoke quietly. “Is that really you, Jimin?”

Letting go of his shirt, I let my hand come to rest on the one he has on my shoulder. Any earlier resentment is gone as I smile up at one of my best friends. 

“It’s been a long time, Hoseok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you guys know that i have to reread terrible things every time I write a new chapter for this? I make myself go through that sadness all over again. Big Oof. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm going to try and get back to posting regularly, but I know how I am so I wont make any huge promises. 
> 
> Let me know if you liked the chapter!
> 
> Love you guys!


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you a-" He glances around us and I swear I can hear his heart pounding. "Are you a ghost?" 

I cock an eyebrow, stepping back and stretching my arms out to my sides. "Do I look like a ghost to you?" 

"Well, I've never seen a ghost before so I wouldn't really know." He studies me intensely, his brows furrowing. I chuckle when he takes a step closer, moving around me to take a look from every angle. "You do look a lot like..." I hear his sigh from behind me. "Well, you look like you, Jimin."

"Maybe because I am me?" 

It takes a few more minutes of reassurance and almost too-intense inspection before Hoseok lets us continue on. We sit against the wall in the back of the studio, silently watching as Taehyung - who came rushing out as soon as I called him - twirls in front of his reflections. I know it's a lot to process, so I don't rush Hoseok to speak. I mean, I was the one who suddenly came back to life and I'm still not entirely sure that this is all real. For all I knew, this was some elaborate dream I was having. I did read somewhere before that the brain can stay alive for seven minutes after the rest of the body dies. 

Maybe I'm still in those seven moments, just dreaming up a future that never happened. 

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been a ghost this whole time?” Hoseok’s voice brings me back to the present. He’s still watching Taehyung attempt ballet. They’re pretty good attempts if I do say so myself. “You’ve been hanging around, just watching everyone since you died?”

“It sounds creepy when you say it that way,” I sigh, cringing. Taehyung waves to me as he takes a leap, his mouth stretched in the biggest grin. I wave back quickly, flashing him my best smile. “I mostly stayed around Yoongi and Taehyung though, if that makes you feel better.” I clasp my hands together, trying to push down the familiar fear I feel rising up. “I was so ter-” I suck in a sharp breath, steadying my voice. “I was so terrified in those first few days. I didn’t know what was happening. And then I was afraid that I was going to miss something or accidentally move on.”

“Why didn’t you?” He finally turns to me, his brown eyes so incredibly sad when they meet my own. “Why didn’t you move on, Chim? It must’ve been so hard to watch from the sidelines, being able to do nothing. It must’ve been so lonely. You would’ve been happier-”

“I didn’t want to be happy.” I jerk my gaze away, hoping he doesn’t catch the tears that are starting to build. “I told myself it would be temporary. Only until Yoongi could handle his grief, I’d tell myself. I just wanted to make sure that he was okay.” I laugh sadly, shaking my head as I remember my futile promises to myself. “But then he started being able to get through the day without breaking down. And then I told myself that I would only stay until Taehyung was potty trained, then until he got to school.” 

“Ji-”

“In the end, they were all excuses because I was afraid. Afraid to lose them, afraid to move on, afraid of being forgotten.”

“But you’re back now, right? You can have your family back, can’t you? You should see Yoongi. I bet he’ll lose his mind.” He grows excited, his dimples shining through as he smiles. “You guys are like a real-life fairy tale, you know? True love even conquers death in the end. I can’t wait until he sees-”

“I can’t see him, Hoseok. Not now at least.” His smile falls and I feel terrible for crashing his dreams. No matter how similar to my own they may be, they can’t come true right now. Not until I have answers. I explain this much to Hoseok, telling him about suddenly waking up and sneaking out this morning. His frown only deepens when I admit how uncertain I am about the permanency of my resurrection. 

When I finish, he pauses for a moment. I can see all the gears turning behind his eyes and if I listen close enough, I’m sure I can hear the churning of cogs. Soon, his frown turns into a smirk. “This is why you came to me, isn’t it?” He claps his hands. “You all used to tease me so much! _‘Psychics aren’t real, Hoseok! It’s a bunch of mumbo jumbo.’_ ” He mocks us, waving his arms wildly. “But now look at you, coming to me for my spiritual know-all.” Crossing his arms, he pouts. “I will help you, for the price of one lowly-apology.”

“Oh great, Hoseok.” I bow, putting as much sincerity in my voice as I can. “Please forgive this foolish child for not knowing better.”

“Well,” he chuckles. “Since you apologized so nicely, I guess I’ll help you out.” He stands, pulling his bag over his shoulder. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouts to the pink-haired fairy darting around the room. “Wanna go on an adventure, Taehyung?”

Taehyung freezes mid pirouette, a smile spreading across his cheeks. “Is Dada coming too?”

Hoseok turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “What do you say, Chim? You ready to get some answers so we can reunite your family?” He holds his hand out to me, that familiar mischief in his eyes. We used to get in so much trouble when he looked like that.

I place my hand in his, letting him haul me up. “Let’s go force some answers out of the universe.” 

“Field trip!” Taehyung screams, barrelling into my legs. I lift him into my arms, nuzzling our noses together. He giggles, pulling away. “Stop it, Dada! We’re going on a mission!”

\-----------

When Hoseok told us all those years ago that he started seeing a psychic, I’ll admit that I was skeptical. And now?

Well, now I’m a thousand times more skeptical.

The room I’m sitting in doesn’t resemble any of my earlier imaginations of what a psychic’s room would look like. Where were the shriveled up hands in jars? The curtains of beads? The crystal balls?

No, this room is not what I imagined. If anything it looks just like any normal reception room. Bookcases line the walls and for a moment I wonder what topics they’re on. Was it possible that they were all about being a psychic? I wouldn’t think so. An aquarium spans the whole length of the wall to my right, the colorful swirls of fish currently holding my son’s attention. He was seated at the table with Hoseok and I, but that lasted a total of about thirty seconds. The boy was curious about everything.

“Taehyungie, baby, why don’t you come back over and sit with us?” I call to him, patting the cushion next to me.

“Hush now,” a woman’s voice chastises me. “The boy won’t hurt the fish. He’s curious, that’s all.” I hear her long before I see her. But when I finally do catch a glimpse of her, it’s an effort to keep my mouth from dropping open. 

_This_ is Hoseok’s psychic? 

I had expected - well I’m not entirely sure what I expected. But it sure wasn’t this. The woman before me is probably no older than I am. Her hair is pin-straight and dark as night. Where I expected some strange robes, she wears a cute, red polka-dotted dress. If I passed her on the streets, I’d have no inkling that she was a psychic.

“It’s rude to stare,” she snaps at me. My cheeks flare from the embarrassment and I mutter a quick apology. “I’ll forgive you since you’re my best client’s friend.” She gives Hoseok a small smile, but then the glare is back, and - thankfully - it’s pinned on him this time. “Even if he does just drop in unannounced, demanding a consultation.”

“I’m sorry, Jade,” Hoseok sighs. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “But once you get a read on this guy, I’m certain you’ll be thrilled that I came to see you.”

She grumbles before blowing out a quick breath. “Well then, how about we get down to business, boys?” She turns those icy-blue eyes on me, holding her hands out palms-up. “Just put your hands in mine, and I’ll read what I can from you.”

I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly before placing my hands in hers. I send a silent plea to the universe that this gives me the answers I so desperately seek.

She goes rigid, her hands clasping mine so hard that it stings. Her eyes close, her brows clenching. Her head tilts to the side, a small smile playing across her face. “Interesting, indeed.” She nods a few times, humming all the while. I glance at Hoseok, confused, but then she speaks again. “You are a special one, aren’t you? To die so young, it truly is a tragedy. But then to be brought back, that’s almost unheard of.” Her eyes screw shut even tighter. “Those years were hard on you,” her voice is soft now, her grip even loosening a bit. “So much sadness, having to watch your family suffer without you.” I can feel Hoseok’s eyes boring into the side of my face, but I don’t want to turn and see the pity I know he’s feeling. 

A few more minutes pass, the only sound coming from the bubbling of the aquarium. When she finally releases my hands, I can feel pins and needles in them as blood flow is restored. I lean forward, eagerly. “So, am I actually alive?”

She leans back, a bit of her earlier color faded from her cheeks. When she looks at me, her eyes are darker, haunted almost. “In a sense, yes. You are as alive as either Hoseok or me. But whether you stay that way, is still in limbo.”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok demands, his hands balling on the table. “Is he going to die again? Isn’t that just too cruel?”

I rest a hand on Hoseok’s arm, trying to calm him. “Limbo?” My voice is gentle, but I can feel my stomach twisting in knots. “What does that mean?”

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “A wish brought you back.” She looks up, meeting my eyes. “And a wish will keep you here.”

“A wish?” I rub my hands down my face, blowing a breath out quickly. “Who’s wish? What do they have to wish for to keep me from disappearing again?”

“I can’t share that with you,” she says quietly. I open my mouth to argue, but she cuts me off. “But I can tell you to stop running. If you stop running, all your questions will be answered in time.” She stands, obviously dismissing us and shutting down any further questions. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get ready for your party, Hoseok. Which-” She glances at the clock on the wall. “-I believe you should be getting ready for, shouldn’t you?”

“Shi-” Hoseok shouts, jumping up. He glances to Taehyung, his eyes going wide. “I mean, Crap!” He grabs my hand and pulls me along, grabbing Taehyung on his way out the door. As we step out into the street, he starts rambling to himself as I sweep Taehyung up in my arms and try to keep up with his longer stride. “I totally forgot. Which, considering my best friend just came back from the dead, I’d say is understandable. But now-”

We pile into his car, Taehyung safely bundled into his car seat, and I finally speak up. “What’s going on, Hoseok?”

“It’s New Year's Eve, Chim.” He pulls out into traffic, his eyes darting around the road. “Which means it’s time for my favorite annual past-time.”

“Which is?”

He flashes me a tight smile. “It’s time for my New Years' Eve Party, Chim.”

___

Hoseok’s house is a flurry of activity. Workers are bustling about, setting up the decorations and laying out the food. As soon as we dropped Taehyung off at his babysitter’s, Hoseok floored it to his house. He dragged me along behind him until we got to his room, where he tore through the closet before shoving a garment bag into my hands. I got no explanation except for him telling me to wear it.

And that’s how I ended up in the guest bedroom staring at myself in the floor-length mirror. I’m not sure of tonight’s theme, but it has to be something spectacular considering the outfit. It’s suspicious that the black slacks and shirt fit me as well as they do, but I don’t dwell on it too long. I slip on the vest, running my hands down the front of it. The cotton is rough to the touch, but it’s breathtaking. It’s a soft brown, delicate pink lace crisscrosses like veins across the fabric. 

A knock sounds on the doorway behind me and I see Hoseok’s head pop in through the reflection. He beams when he catches sight of me. “I knew it would look great on you!” 

I turn to face him, putting my hands on my hips. “And do you want to tell me why they magically fit me?”

He steps in fully, closing the door softly behind him. He has the audacity to look sheepish as he mutters, “I kept shopping even after you died. I would see something and think how amazing you would look in it. I guess it was my way of keeping you close to me.”

I freeze, “That’s- That’s actually kind of sweet, Hoseok.” I chuckle. “Weird, but sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves away my comments, sitting me down at the foot of the bed. “Let me do your makeup real quick so we can get you downstairs and mingling.” 

I close my eyes, letting him work his magic. “Are you sure I should be part of this?” I try to my lips as much as possible so as not to disturb his work. “I am trying to lay low, after all.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures me. “No one will be able to recognize you, I promise.”

He steps back, but I don’t open my eyes just yet. I know better than to open before he tells me to. I can still hear the lecture I got last time about messing up all his hard work before he was finished. “And how do you plan on making sure no one recognizes me?” 

“Well, that’s the beauty of fate, Jimin.” I feel something settle against my cheeks and the pull of pins as they’re fastened into my hair. “Everything just works out when it needs to.” I can feel him step back. “Now, open your eyes.”

I do as he says, my breath catching when I see myself in the mirror. I stand slowly, approaching the mirror. My hands gently prod the mask covering half my face. Branches wrap around my cheeks, flowers as pink as my hair growing from them. The leaves trace my features gently, but still manage to obscure my identity. I wouldn’t even recognize myself. “A masquerade,” I laugh. I almost can’t believe the timing. “How fitting.”

I turn to Hoseok, finding him fitting his own mask on. What seems to be gold scales wraps around his cheeks covers the top half of his face, silver filigree tracing from his nose and up the sides until they fade out - a giant, radiant sun gracing the center of his forehead. Now I understand the black overcoat, the shoulders and cuffs traced in gold. Once the mask is in place, he smiles at me. “I’ve been planning this for over a year,” he explains, opening the door. I follow him into the hallway, the loud murmur of voices reaching us from downstairs. “You know I’ve always wanted to throw a masquerade.” That was true. “And last year I just decided that this year was going to be the year I did it. What timing, huh?”

I follow him downstairs, my unease settling at the size of the crowd. How would anyone recognize me in this sea of masks? I’m certain I’ll even lose Hoseok in it, even though I know what mask he’s wearing. 

There’s only one person I’m trying to hide from and the odds that he’s here are low. After all, Yoongi hates crowds. And parties. He only ever came to these things because I dragged him along. I stop at the bottom of the stairs, surveying the room. “You were right, Hoseok. There’s no way I’ll meet-” 

My words freeze in my throat, choking me as I spot him from across the room. Even in a sea of masked strangers, I’d recognize him instantly. He wears a gold cat mask, purple dusting the forehead and nose. Diamonds circle his eyes and glitter in the ears of the mask. His hair is slicked back, leaving his soft features on display. He’s dressed almost identically to me, except where my shirt is brown with pink lace - his is a deep violet with gold lace.

As if sensing my eyes on him, he turns from the person he’s speaking to. His eyes land on mine and my heart thuds in my chest. Please, for all that is good in this world, don’t recognize me.

“Did I mention that Yoongi would be here?” Hoseok chirps from beside me. I want to punch him, but I don’t have time.

Because Yoongi is making his way over here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's keep this momentum going lovelies! I'm loving how this story is progressing!
> 
> What do you guys think??? Are we enjoying it?? 
> 
> Let me know what you think
> 
> And, as always, thank you for reading <3


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